This is a blog in which I will complain AND muse about absolutely everything in my life BUT NOT MY JOB. I got fired from my last job for this here blog. But that's really a good thing because now I have all this time for bridge and whiskey.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Cleaning out my text messages.

- Who shit on this carpet?

- I wasn't prepared to set up a velvet rope at your funeral.

- Lord, the end is near. I just caught myself singing Nickelback. I hate myself.

- I just googled how to tell the difference between gray and blonde hair. It's harder than you think and google is USELESS.

- I just "fixed" my Uggs. Most I've done all day outside of karaoke.

- I totally wouldn't kick trainer Bob outta bed... but I don't have a penis so I don't think he'd be into it.

- I've never wanted to get someone, besides me, laid more in my life.

- Man, I just wanna chain smoke and drink beers. Merry Christmas.

- I got a feeling he works on a dairy farm.

- The fact that in that diagram the anus was represented by the green light = DIAGRAM FAIL.

- Dude, I just bought a puffy silver vest for $3 THANK GOD I'VE NEEDED ONE FOR SO LONG.

- The girl to your left is a hot-ass mess.

- Wet, slide, thighs, shaft, quivering. These are your sexting words!

- I'm on my knees in the dirt at work, and I'm slipping in vomit when I play. Why would I buy $100 jeans?

- I'm at Walmart and the car parked in front of me has 10- TEN- air fresheners hanging on the rear view.

About Me

My deal consists of Jim Beam and hookers.
I also like cheese.
I live in a small town in Alabama with my son, my husband, our alien-like dog Rocky, sometimes my two step-daughters, and a ghost named Marty who makes us peanut butter sandwiches. It's irritating because Marty always leaves knives covered in peanut butter in the kitchen sink, and who do you think has to clean that up? PHIL, IS WHO.